


Matters of the Heart

by MarieQuiteContrarie (SeaStar1330)



Series: Empty Heart Verse [1]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Angst, Betrayal, F/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Romance, Rumbelle - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-16
Updated: 2015-05-16
Packaged: 2018-03-30 18:27:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3947134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeaStar1330/pseuds/MarieQuiteContrarie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>2016 TEA (THE ESPENSON AWARDS) WINNER - BEST BELLE<br/>Belle and Regina have a long-awaited confrontation and Belle sets the record straight. Post 4B canon divergent.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Matters of the Heart

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s Notes: This is my first ever work of fanfiction and my first stab at creative writing in a long time. It's my take on a conversation I would love to see happen. This will likely become AU after Season 5 premieres. Please read and review. 
> 
> I do not own Once Upon A Time. If I did, there would be many more Rumbelle scenes. And happiness. Lots of happiness.

 

The shop was eerily quiet, the only sounds the ticking of the clock on the workbench and her own breath, shaky from crying. High in the sky, the moon cast a serene glow through the window, illuminating Rumple’s face as he lay suspended in time by the Apprentice’s spell.

Belle continued her vigil at Rumple’s bedside, twisting her wedding ring on her finger. Their chipped cup sat within reach, its white and blue porcelain offering a silent testimony to the resilience of their love. It was fitting that they remained here. She’d been steward of this shop for weeks—surrounding herself by what Rumple loved had been her saving grace ever since the terrible night she’d sent him away. Warding off the hurt, she’d trudged on, living as normal a life as possible. Idly, she wondered what Storybrooke’s citizens thought of her fragile façade. All but abandoning her passion for the library, Belle had opened the pawnshop each morning without fail. If she could not care for its owner, at least she could spend her days caring for his treasures. She’d also managed Rumple’s investment properties, collected rent, and continued living in their salmon pink Victorian home.

If she had halted her new routine to consider what she had truly done, she’d have lost her mind. Fear and worry were her constant companions. Her decision to send Rum away had haunted every waking moment and followed her into her nightmares. How many nights had she reached for him, wrapping herself around his pillow as she sobbed herself into oblivion? How many mornings had she called his mobile, nearly begging him to come home, only to hang up without speaking a word?

Three weeks after their bitter confrontation, Belle met Will at the Rabbit Hole while downing tequila shots and playing pool—activities she hadn’t engaged in since her brief stint as Lacey. The thief was heartsick after losing his own true love, Anastasia. With pain their common ground, they fell into an easy friendship. It was good to have someone to talk to, since Belle didn’t have many real friends. There was Ruby, of course, whom she loved dearly. Most of the time she kept her unkind thoughts to herself. But beyond Archie, who was fully supportive, her marriage to Rum had merely been tolerated. She had sensed the townspeople’s silent yet harsh judgement, as they watched and waited for the relationship between the odd librarian and the town pariah to crumble. She couldn’t bear to hear ‘I told you so.’

But Will understood. He, too, had loved and wed a villain. And so he’d rocked Belle as she wept and listened patiently as she waffled between defending her decision and pouring out her guilt. Will had been a friend when Belle needed one most, and their occasional kisses and hugs were nothing more than that—friendly. Theirs had been no torrid love affair. Both had needed a distraction from their wounds, but both knew the truth: Belle yearned for only one man. Tortured and twisted as Rumple could be, he alone held her heart. They had not had an easy road, but the path they walked together was forever.

He called himself a selfish monster, but Rumple had always been Belle’s savior. Who else encouraged her bravery? Who respected her intelligence, matched her wit for wit, and discussed books with her for hours on end? Who allied with a rival for her affections to return her heart after Regina had stolen it? Above all, who else loved her enough to let her go? Time after time, Rumple had placed Belle’s needs and desires above his own.

Unlike anyone else she had ever known or cared for in her entire life, he was the only person who had ever given her a choice.

Terrified of losing her, he had swallowed the horror of his imprisonment and masked the trauma he’d suffered at Zelena’s hands. He blamed himself for Bae’s death, and even though his son had acknowledged his father’s sacrifices with his dying breath, Rumple shouldered that guilt and responsibility like a shroud.

Belle’s chest tightened as she replayed the last agonizing moments of her conversation with Rum—their first honest words since he’d come back to Storybrooke—before he’d collapsed and lost consciousness. “Who could ever love me?” He had wept brokenly, and the admission seared her like knife scalded in flames.

How had she not seen his desperation? Every calculated move had been a cry for help. Too obliviously happy at being his wife at long last, she had ignored every sign—until she had arrived in the clock tower and their world had come crashing down.

Oh, but she had missed him. It was agony, knowing he had returned to town, yet always just beyond her reach. Tonight God had granted her that precious hour before nightfall to cradle him close, murmuring endearments and burying her fingers in his hair. Again and again she assured him of their forever love before he had slipped away.

She was grateful for Archie, who had arrived soon after the heroes rushed to follow the inky blackness that had slunk away, hunting for its next host. Terrible darkness that over centuries had snuffed out the light of love in her husband’s heart. Archie had moved Rumple off the cold, hard floor, helping Belle to gently ease him into the cot they kept in the back room. Had it been hours or mere minutes since he’d promised to call tomorrow, murmuring good night and slipping out the back door? How long had she been here, studying her love for any sign of life?

Belle shook her head to clear it; the heartbreak of the past had chased them like a specter for too long. Tenderly, she stroked a wisp of soft brown hair out of Rumple’s closed eyes. Crawling onto the small bed, she curled around his body, burying her face in the crook of his neck. In the stasis the Apprentice had placed him in, he was surprisingly warm to the touch, and she shuddered as she inhaled the scent of his skin for the first time in too long.

“Rum,” she said, for the thousandth time, “I love you. And I’ll spend the rest of my days making sure you never forget it. But you have to fight for us—you have to wake up,” she begged, reaching up to stroke his stubbled cheek. “Come back to me, please.” Now that they had found each other again, Belle had no intention of living without him.

Her pleas were interrupted by the sound of the shop door opening, the bell jingling softly. She released a sigh of resignation. As usual, she had forgotten to lock the damn door. Security had been Rumple’s strong suit. Footfalls sounded, then a figure cast a shadow in the doorway. “Go away,” Belle said woodenly, not moving her head from where it rested above the slow beat of Rumple’s heart. He was so still; his chest barely rising and falling under her warm palm.

Belle’s gaze shifted to his precious face. Right now, she just wanted to be alone with her husband. But the shadow persisted. “Please,” she repeated, growing weary. “Leave us.”

“Belle.” Regina’s voice was quiet, and Belle turned her head, dumbfounded as to what she was doing here. Regina appeared wan and more uncertain than Belle could recall in the 32 years they had known each other. The former queen hesitated, sensing that despite the unconscious state of the man on the cot, she had stumbled upon a moment of marital intimacy.

“You!” Belle’s temper ignited and her voice rose in fury. She lifted her head from Rumple’s chest, her eyes blazing in accusation. “What are you doing here? After all these years; after everything that has passed between us; after every wedge you’ve created to drive us apart. I hope you’re finally happy!” Belle was ranting now, hateful yet truth-filled words too long unsaid spitting from her lips.

She sat up suddenly, continuing her assault. Oh, how she had longed for this moment! “He came to you. He told you what was happening to his heart. You knew! You knew the Dark One was killing him!” Hot tears dripped down her face and Belle swiped angrily at her cheeks, her voice wobbling in her misery. She would not be weak in front of this woman. “I thought you at least cared about him,” she whispered.

“Me, care about _that_ imp? He stole the Author. He left Robin in Zelena’s clutches. He hijacked everyone’s happy endings!” Regina snorted, suddenly defensive.

“Rumplestiltskin was desperate to protect us all. You never gave him a chance to explain! None of you did—not you, not Emma, not Snow or David. If you had listened to him and helped him find a way to control the darkness, this would not have happened,” Belle was shouting again.

Why couldn’t they admit the truth? Heroes & Villains had been Isaac’s master plan—his happy ending and revenge. No one's happiness would have lasted in the alternate reality.

“Rumple _did not_ write the story. It was the Author—his revenge and his means to becoming a famous writer. He created a world Rumple would defend and refuse to leave. Rumple was out of time and Isaac knew it—he tricked him into a deal he didn’t understand.”

Regina inched closer as she considered Belle’s words, silently reaching out with her magic to assess the condition of her former tutor and rival.

“I told you to stay away from him. You. Your wretched mother. Your wicked sister,” Belle sneered, scrambling off the small bed. “Zelena had better be locked up tight in that prison you kept me in! Your entire family is poison and you have caused him enough pain!” She swore a bitter oath and pointed at the door. “Get out!”

Regina stopped, immobilized by Belle’s insults. She opened her mouth to reply, then clamped it shut, the scar on her upper lip standing out in stark relief. She suddenly looked old and very, very tired.

Belle stood sentinel over Rumple’s body, glaring at the woman who’d been the source of so much pain and misunderstanding between she and her love. She would protect him this time, no matter the cost. Belle had been a hero to the town when she’d cast him—cold, crying, and crippled—across the line. This time, she’d be a hero for her husband. Broken as he was and unable to defend himself in word or deed, he needed a champion. There was no one else.

“Don’t you see?” Belle implored, her tone softening. “He only did what he thought was best. What choice did he have? Everything he asked the Author to do, he did to keep the Dark One from ravaging the last flicker of humanity in his heart. Left unchecked, the Dark One would have leveled the entire town. We would all be dead if not for Rumple’s heroism.”

“You’re right.” Regina sighed and met Belle’s eyes. “I should have listened. I’m sorry, Belle. Rumple and I… we have a long history. But right now, I need you to focus on something other than how much you despise me. Right now—I, we, Emma, everybody—needs your help,” Regina said.

“Why does this sound familiar?” Belle argued. “Every time you ask me for help it causes Rumple and me nothing but misery. Will you wait for me to make a choice, or will you just take what you want, the way you took my heart? You brought to me to meet him at the well—the place where we exchanged our vows—controlled my words and actions, then caused me to forget everything he told me! How dare you?”

Belle’s lips trembled and her voice dropped to a near-whisper. “I could have helped him; I needed to help him. All you care about—all any of you so-called heroes care about—is using me against my husband while you chase your own happy endings.” She stalked closer, and Regina’s eyes widened as Belle stabbed a finger into her chest. “I’m nothing more than a pawn in your twisted pursuit of what’s right. You’re a fraud, Regina!”

“You stole Belle’s heart?” David interrupted, appearing in the doorway behind Regina, followed by a tearful Snow and a shaken Henry. “THAT was your leverage against Gold?”

“Eavesdropping at the door?” Regina chided. “You are not helping, Charming.”

“Mom!” Henry said. “Grandpa Gold has made some bad choices, but he’s not a bad man. He saved me from an ogre. He told me to find you. Besides, he’s family.”

“Honestly, what else could I do?” Regina supplicated. “Zelena was holding Robin hostage, Rumple claimed to be working with her!”

“As though Rumple would do anything for that miserable witch!” Belle snorted.

“Yes, I took your heart. It was wrong. And I am sorry. But Belle, you’re Rumple’s only weakness—always have been,” Regina said, casting another pitying glance at the lifeless sorcerer.

Belle blanched at the reminder that Rumple’s life was hanging in the balance. She eyed the Charmings and Regina with a calculated glare. ‘Do the brave thing and bravery will follow’ she reminded herself.

“I may have been Rumple’s weakness once. But not anymore. Rumple says I am his strength. For the first time, I understand what that means. And I intend to be strong—for him and for me. You want my help? It’s not something for nothing. Not anymore. So… _I’ll make you a deal_. I will help you search for Merlin and uncover Camelot. In exchange, you—all of you—will do everything in your power to bring my husband back to me.”

“But the Apprentice…he…he said it might be impossible to help Gold,” Snow argued, desperation in her tone. “Emma….”

“Emma,” Belle cut in icily, “is not my first concern. She is finally going to taste the darkness—the darkness you removed from her heart and forced on Lily. Maybe now we will all begin to understand the evil that has been clawing at Rumple’s soul for over 300 years. Why he was helpless to stop his actions. I didn’t understand it. If I had, I would have done so many things differently,” Belle vowed. “But none of that matters now. What matters is what we do next.”

“I will save my husband. And you will help me. Do we have a deal?” Belle pressed.

“Deal,” Henry responded, coming around his mother and grandparents to stand in front of Belle. He offered a tremulous smile. “We have a deal.”


End file.
